


Singing The Blues

by orphan_account



Category: EastEnders
Genre: Chryed, M/M, One-Shot, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-15
Updated: 2012-05-15
Packaged: 2017-11-05 10:33:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Too Much</p>
            </blockquote>





	Singing The Blues

Singing The Blues

 

 

He was aware of being scrutinised - nothing unusual, Christian loved watching him - but this time he could sense the difference. Sure enough when he turned to look he saw that Christian wasn't wearing that expression of quiet wonderment and delight he seemed to habitually wear these days; his eyes were assessing and somewhat cool. Frowning, Syed met his gaze and asked.

Christian didn't answer straight away. Not moving or altering his gaze he got slowly to his feet. “This isn't what I signed up for.” He waited a moment to gauge Syed's response before turning, movements measured and precise, grabbing jacket, phone and key and walking out the door.

Syed's instinct was to chase after him, demand what he meant, ask him which aspect of their idyllic life had given rise to such an anomalous sentiment, but the truth was he was too stunned to think, let alone act on the thought.

They were happy. He'd thought they were happy. He was happy, was sure that Christian was too. He'd have _known_ if he wasn't.

Had he got it wrong, then? Had he missed – _been_ missing – something all along?

Dropping listlessly on to the sofa he rested head in hands and wondered what the hell had gone wrong, and more importantly why it was he just hadn't bloody seen it.

 

**

The thing about Roxy was that she was always what he wanted her to be. She wasn't a nice person, but she was always nice to him. She was self-centred, but was always able to raise her head far enough from the contemplation of her own navel stud to take on his woes. She was a girl, but when he needed her to be laddish she'd comply. He loved that she was a girl – didn't really think he'd be able to have a guy as a best friend. In any case he already had a guy as a best friend. It's just that it wasn't always that great an idea to be sleeping with your best friend, too. Who the hell else were you going to turn to for advice about your lover? Not that he needed _advice_ about his lover, just needed to chew the fat with his best friend about the fact that he was feeling totally overwhelmed in a way he had never felt before or even _expected_ to – about the fact that he was completely and totally in love with the guy he was sleeping with. Yeah Roxy would scoff and rib him - and the rest, but she would understand, she'd make him feel better about it all.

Love: you think you've got it sorted, think you know everything there is to know about it and then wham! it punishes you for your hubris with a mallet to your chest – a 10 pound mallet – and you realise that you actually don't have a fucking clue!

The thing is you couldn't say this to him; you could only choke on your feelings, choke because your heart's in your mouth every time you hear his voice or see his face, and you know you should be over this, that after everything you'd been through with him, you shouldn't _still_ be feeling this way.

So you take refuge with your best friend, because you know she's a cynical bitch and if anyone will be able to pull you out of the mire it will be her.

Trouble is you're not entirely convinced you want to be pulled out of the mire. You just know that if your heart gets any fuller it will definitely burst...

 

**

 

He'd reached such a low point last year. 

Becoming a father had been just about the best thing that had ever happened to him, so much so that he'd honestly believed that should it come to a choice between that and having Christian in his life he'd have chosen fatherhood.

Well how wrong he'd been.

It had actually, physically _hurt_ to realise that he'd been prepared to give up Yasmin to be with Christian. It had taken quite a while to forgive himself for that. Harder since finally admitting that being Yasmin's father would have been for _her_ , while being Christian's lover was wholly for him. Pure selfishness and not something he'd found easy to admit, even to Christian.

Love. Some said it was selfless – that true love was selfless: the love of a parent for a child. But the love of a lover for the beloved, was that ever truly selfless? He wanted to believe that for Christian's sake he'd be able to give him up, just as he knew he'd be able to for Yasmin's, but his heart and gut told him he wasn't there yet, was nowhere near there yet! And didn't that make him the most selfish bastard on the planet?

He'd actually astonished himself with the depth of emptiness he'd felt on losing Christian. He had what he'd always _told_ himself he wanted – family, business, road to a successful future – yet in the end it had all paled against the realisation that to have all that might mean _not_ having Christian too. 

His life always seemed to come down to an either/or fork in the road, and though he'd since learned that it could be this _and_ that rather than this _or_ that, when it had seemed like he had only two choices he'd chosen Christian.

He intended to ensure that his daughter would _never_ learn that she'd not been first in her daddy's heart, but had to wonder now whether _Christian_ needed to know, to know for sure, with no possible doubts allowed, that  he'dbeen first in Syed's heart, that he now was and always _would_ be first...

 

**

When Roxy finally stopped laughing she made a suggestion.

 

**

He didn't know why he'd cooked them a meal – Christian's favourite - all his attention bent on getting it perfect. He hadn't even heard from him since he'd left, didn't even know how Christian was feeling, what he was thinking, all he knew as that his instinct just screamed; 'show him you love him, no matter what' and making this perfect meal seemed the right thing to do.

He'd lit the last candle when he heard Christian at the door.

His face was a little flushed, which meant he'd been drinking, but Syed's attention was caught by the biggest bunch of roses he'd ever seen.

“What the hell? Where did you get those? Not in the Mini mart, that's for sure.”

“No, the _correct_ response is: 'OMG, for me? Oh Christian, you're wonderful!' Followed by a snog, followed by-” He waggled his eyebrows. “Use your imagination.”

“Well I had no _clue_ that roses were an aphrodisiac.”

“Why do you think guys buy roses for women?” Grinning, he removed a rose from the bunch and held it out to him. “For you.”

Taking the rose, Syed inhaled the heady perfume, checked there were no thorns then ran the velvety petals across Christian's jaw. “You know I expect you to pick off every last petal and strewn them over our bed, don't you?”

“Well, no, because you're a guy, not a girl, and I happen to know that you fucking hate silk sheets, let alone rose petalled sheets, so how about we just put them in a couple of vases instead?”

“A couple? You'll be lucky. I don't think even my _mother_ has that many vases!”

“Well, I am _not_ asking your mother for any vases! Bad enough I had to walk home with this lot!”

Syed laughed. “Oh you poor thing, did everyone in Walford laugh and point?”

“Worse: the women were all sighing and saying things about 'romantic' and 'how they wish all straight guys...' You know the drill. Nightmare.”

Smiling, Syed wrapped both arms around Christian's neck. “If you were a straight guy...”

“You'd fancy me even more?”

“Women would run a mile.”

“Hey!”

“You know it's true: it's the scent of gay that attracts them like bees to a honey pot.”

“The scent of gay. And what does that smell like?”

Syed sniffed his neck. “Like all the spices in Arabia, plus the perfumes from the Garden of Eden.”

“Whoa! What have you been sniffing?”

Laughing, Syed buried his face in Christian's shoulder. “Am I high, do you mean?”

“Are you?”

“A little.” He felt Christian's kiss against his temple.

“Me too.” His voice was quiet, serious.

“On love?”

“On love.”

“So when you said this wasn't what you signed up for?”

Christian's sigh was deep and heartfelt, his arms, still full of roses tightening around Syed's back. “Too much love,” he explained.

“Yeah,” Syed agreed. “I know.”

“You too, uh?”

“I was thinking about how much I loved you. It's like, even though I knew before, now it's like on another level.”

“Scary, isn't it?”

“But brilliant, too.”

“Yeah. The only problem is I don't think there are enough roses in the world for me to express it to you.”

“Well, you _say_ that, but have you looked? I mean, really?”

Laughing, Christian moved a little so he could see Syed's smiling face. “I think I've created a monster.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Clarkie.”

“Oh keep telling yourself that, darling. I happen to know that you are the easiest, easiest lay ever!”

“Oh really?” He made to move away. Christian tightened his embrace. “Well I'd better rise to the challenge then, hadn't I? Can't have you thinking I'm easy.”

“Oh don't even. I'd give you ten minutes max.”

“Now who's flattering himself?”

“Well it's true: a kiss here, a lick right there and you cave like a – well, like a very easy lay.”

“And what a good thing I laced your dinner with Viagra. No point being an easy lay if your partner isn't up to the job.”

“Whatever you've thrown at me I've caught and given back with interest.” He was kissing Syed's neck, hands roaming his lower back. “Can't deny that.”

“Oh? Can't I?” He was doing his best, but knew he was losing the battle: Christian knew exactly how to get him where it 'hurt'.

“But you're right.” Abruptly he withdrew his attention to Syed's neck, pushed him away gently and exclaimed. “That smells absolutely delicious. I am starving!” The roses were placed carefully on the side table as he hurried to the kitchen. “Shall I dish out?”

Fuming Syed followed him. “One of these days, Clarkie...”

Christian turned and grinned. “I know. Me too. And, as always you forgot the wine!” Tweaking his nose he brushed past him, serving spoon in hand.

Syed watched him from the doorway, marvelling at the grace and energy contained in his tall, slim form.

When their eyes met he mouthed the words.

Christian winked and held out his arms.

 

 

 


End file.
